Not So Ancient History
by MachinaExDeo
Summary: After a life mixed with chaos and contentment, Shirou woke up in a new world, very similar and yet so different from his own. Now he must contend with powers far beyond his level, protecting his friends and countless innocent people from being caught up in a war beyond their wildest imaginations... Alright, maybe it wasn't so different after all...(Cover image doesn't belong to me)
1. Chapter 1: Yet Another Trip Gone Bad

**Chapter 1: Yet Another Trip Gone Bad**

In whatever life he lived, Shirou Emiya always seemed to attract the strangest people. Then again, perhaps his unorthodox mindset was to blame. Rin always did say he was distorted.

He didn't think it was just superstition. His foster father was a notorious assassin, his guardian was a hyperactive yakuza princess, and as a child his roster of friends included a monk, a prodigy mage, a rapist and… Sakura. Granted, some of those details were unknown to him at the time, but still.

Despite knowing this tendency, he couldn't help but think his two new friends were a just a bit stranger that what was warranted.

Perseus, Percy Jackson smelled like saltwater. All the time. He could be covered in chili or wet paint, both instances that he had observed, and he would still smell like a fresh ocean breeze. Grover Underwood, his crippled companion, was harder to place. His scent mingled together the forests and what seemed like… goat hair.

The strangers didn't end there. Two of their teachers in particular made him weary. Mr. Brunner was middle-aged man in a wheelchair, who smelled like coffee and horses. But behind his gentle countenance, Shirou recognized the hardened instincts of a warrior. He had no doubt that Mr. Brunner was much older than he seemed. Ms. Dodds was just smelled… bad. Sulphur and aged leather was a surprisingly bad cocktail. But more alarmingly was the killing intent that she emitted sporadically towards, well everyone. But mostly Percy.

Now, he may be dense, but stupidity was something that Rin had beaten out of him a long time ago.

It only took one accidental meeting with a dryad for him to learn of the supernatural of this world. What he found did not impress him. Gods. Demigods. Monsters. The Underworld. Olympus. The Mist. Camp Half-Blood. Camp Jupiter. It took him four years to gather that much information as discreetly as he could. It could have taken a fraction of that time, but his adopted family was rather… overbearing. His excursions were difficult enough to manage.

"Mr. Emiya. May I trouble you for your opinion?"

Shirou finally acknowledged the elbow jabbing into his side and turned his attention to the painting that Mr. Brunner was gesturing to. "That is the Titan, Kronos, eating the gods."

"Correct. Kronos, the Titan King was afraid of being overthrown. As his children were being born, he swallowed them whole, except for the youngest. Mr. Jackson, what happened to Zeus?"

Percy adopted the look of a goldfish before the answer came to him. "Ahh… Kronos' wife, she fed him a rock instead of Zeus, then she hid him away."

That part of the myth always confused Shirou. He knew that divinity did not always equate to intelligence, but he also knew they were all pretty ruthless. One would think that killing a baby would not be as reviled as eating it alive. But he supposed legends were legends for a reason.

Of course, he could admit that he was a bit biased. He could vividly remember a past conversation with Rider, one of the rare moments where she was comfortable enough to totally open up to him. She talked of the selfish, cruel and meddlesome gods. It would seem the gods here were no different, even after thousands of years.

"Ugh, all due respect to Mr. Brunner, when are we going to use this in the real world? Am I gonna apply for a job and say, ' _No, I don't have any special skills, but I can tell you about the legend of Kronos and the gods!'_ " Percy griped as he ate his sandwich.

Grover and Shirou exchanged an amused glance. This was a common complaint from Percy, but he didn't fool either of them. They knew that Mr. Brunner's class was his favorite since it was the only one where he could enjoy class and even excel. What Shirou didn't say was that there would probably be a need for that knowledge very, very soon.

Their friendly banter was unfortunately interrupted by the charming Nancy Bobofit. The redhead had been a constant thorn in their sides. Shirou preferred to see the good points in people, but this girl was just unbearable. She constantly made fun of Percy's dyslexia, Grover's disability, and Shirou's Japanese heritage. Her most recent annoyance was dumping her culinary disaster of a lunch into Grover's lap.

Shirou immediately grabbed a hold of Percy's arm, to stop him from doing something incredibly stupid that would land him in detention. Again. But it seems his efforts were for naught.

In plain view of everyone, a tentacle of water wrapped around Bobofit's waist, and _yanked_ her into the fountain.

Before any of them could protest, their Math teacher had swooped in and had taken Percy away for a talk. Shirou did not miss the panicked look on Grover's face and the anxiety over Mr. Brunner's. "Grover, think fast!" Grover yelped and nearly dropped the apple that he had thrown his way. "Hold on to that for me please! I need to use the restroom."

 _Trace on._ Two words that he had relied on his entire life. Completely unnecessary at this point, but even running them through his head was its own little ritual that set him at ease. Once the rest of the class were out of sight, the faint glow of Reinforcement filling his legs. Following the scent of ocean and brimstone, he bounded across the museum, taking the stairs five at a time. A horrifying screech reached his ears and entered the grand hall just in time to see a bat-like creature leap off the side of the wall and swoop down with claws like kitchen knives.

Percy ducked down on to the marble floor, Mrs. Dodds missing him by mere inches.

"Give it to me!" The creature hissed, her veiny skin pulsing in rage. She tucked her wings in, diving forwards, but an abnormally long sword slammed into one of her wings, pinning her to the walls. Growling, she attempted to grasp the short red hilt, but found her body sluggish and numb, her energy sapped by the blade in her flesh.

"I've never your seen your kind before, but I'm glad that these work on you." The Black Keys have been his go-to weapons when fighting these monsters. While their original purpose was to fight against demons and vampires, they were also highly spiritually effective against those who are deemed 'evil'. It would seem that most, if not all monsters qualify. For example, right now the Internment Rite has fully petrified Mrs. Dodds.

"Release me, morta- "

Shirou didn't let her say another word. With a snap of his fingers, Mrs. Dodds burst into flame, until she was reduced to scattered golden dust. "It seems a normal school life is beyond my capabilities." He muttered.

He dismissed the Key and faced his shocked and awe-stricken friend. "You have questions."

"As do I."

They both turned to see Mr. Brunner and Grover at the hall's entrance, the former looking grave, and the latter incredulous. Shirou noted the bronze pen in Mr. Brunner's clenched fist. _Anaklusmos. Xiphos. 0.914 meters in length. 2.27 kilograms in weight. Celestial Bronze. Wielded by Zoe Nightshade. Wielded by Heracles. Wielded by-_

He tore his gaze away from the magic item as Mr. Brunner resumed talking. "This is not what I had hoped to happen when I said this trip would be educational."

"I don't know, Mr. Brunner. I feel like Percy will learn quite a lot today."

"No. It is far too earl- "

"Ok, all of you. What in the hell just happened? And will you please not talk like I'm not here? Somebody start explaining or I'm gonna start having a psychotic break!" Shirou could hear the growing distress in his voice. It was a stark reminder to everyone in the room that Percy was not a warrior. He was an twelve-year-old boy. This needed to be handled gently but firmly.

"You heard him. I don't know about either of you, but I'm not going to lie to a friend. Especially not about something this important. This life-changing." He turned to Percy, whose confusion was only growing. "Alright Percy. As of now, you have entered a new world. This world is dangerous, confusing, which is why Mr. Brunner wants to tell you nothing about it."

"That makes zero sense. If it's dangerous, shouldn't I _know_ everything I can?"

"Knowledge is power Perseus." Mr. Brunner cut in. "And the more you possess, the more of these monsters that you will attract. If you truly wish to know, then I promise I can tell you everything and answer any question you might have, but only after summer vacation begins. That's when we can get you to safety."

Percy looked at both of them. "Those monsters. You can kill them?"

"I've been killing them for years." Shirou assured him, getting narrowed eyes from Mr. Brunner. "And Percy? 'Safety' is a relative term. No matter where you're told, if you are what I think you are, these monsters will be the least of your problems. But I will protect you."

One might call that hubristic, but Shirou meant every word of it. Even if he wasn't a friend, Percy was innocent. He wasn't a fighter, just a confused youngster who was in way over his head and needed reassurance that he was going to be alright. No, that wasn't giving him enough credit. He was more than that, Percy was as bullheaded and as strong-willed as they came. He didn't trust people easily, and he needed to know that he could do something on his own.

He needed a sword.

He looked once again to the scattering golden dust on the floor, the spiderwebbed marble walls, and looked back at him in resolution. "Tell me everything."

 **Yeah, yeah, I know. What the hell am I doing with another story in a completely different fandom. I already have two that I'm struggling with. But I saw this challenge from A Dyslexic Writer. It's not on his page, it's on Ch 11 of his story 'Bird of Prey', and the idea just would not leave me alone. As you can see, it's rather short, but it is only a trial run. Tell me what you think! This is my first foray into the crossover realm, so I could use some criticisms.**

 **By the way, if I'm going to continue this story, then I'll be using Shirou from the True End of Heaven's Feel, Return to the Spring, for no particular reason other than I really want Sakura to have her happy ending And Rider's just really hot. But Sakura is Best Girl. Though I will concede that Rin is Best Tsundere.**

 **Also, if anyone can come up with a better title, it would be much appreciated.**

 **Later bitches!**


	2. Chapter 2: Tangling Strings

**Chapter 2: Tangling Strings**

Having to relive one's childhood years wasn't as advantageous people would think. An old soul in a new body would seemingly have many head starts, but also many difficulties. Learning to walk and speak and eat and most importantly, fight in a body with a mind that registered the actions as second nature was difficult, like learning to ride a bike, but the direction of the handle bars was reversed. You had a theoretical understanding of how it would work, but implementing it is another story.

But Shirou was nothing if not diligent, and he was considered a prodigy by the age of one, fluent in English and well-versed in mathematics and sciences. Despite this, he chose not to advance his academics. He already had a college degree anyway, as well as several qualifications which probably wouldn't do much good here. But he couldn't leave his new family behind.

The foster home in which he lived housed nearly a dozen children, all of them left on church doorsteps or hospital emergency rooms, and taken in as wards of the State, according to the Safe Haven laws. The matriarch of the house, an old widow named Linda Strauss, wasn't the most caring guardian, but she kept them fed and clothed, and even aided the other children with their homework, comforted them in times of distress. She was quite tight-lipped about herself, but she provided a home for many children, even before Shirou was born, so he considered her someone to respect and not just someone doing it for the government checks.

In the absence of a warm parental figure, Shirou stepped in as much as he could. After regaining his higher motor skills, he tried to make the house a home. Home-cooked meals that kept within their grocery budget, nutritious packed lunches, picnics in Central Park, tutoring them when needed, repairing the house. He didn't know much about 'traditional' families, but he did whatever he could do to make these children feel wanted.

…Considering the streaks of white in his hair, he shouldn't be surprised they started calling him Gramps.

Rider once called him the world's deadliest mother-hen. He supposed he should be flattered.

When it was time to enter middle-school, at the behest of Mrs. Strauss (as well as the nagging of several younglings), Shirou accepted a place in Yancy Academy as part of a government-funded youth-outreach program. Apparently, the social workers that regularly visited their home had pegged onto Shirou's supposed genius, as well as his reluctance to advance. Some of them had pushed him, claiming that he was wasting his potential, some had found it endearing. Mrs. Strauss' brand of encouragement really stuck to him

"Go get a college degree and then you can pay me back for all the food you've used up. If I'm lucky you can take a few of these brats off my hands." Were her exact words.

After several debates, a compromise was reached, and Shirou got a full ride to Yancy, a private boarding school for the rich and influential, with the conditions that he would keep his prodigious grades up and he would continue onto third-level education, and in exchange he could leave the campus to visit the Strauss home on the weekends, a privilege that made many classmates, including Percy, envious. It was these weekend privileges that allowed Shirou to continue his exploring and investigating, not that there were many places he could go with such limited time.

If there was one thing that Shirou had learned in his life, was that information was invaluable.

So much of the pain and suffering of the Holy Grail War could have been avoided if he had more information. If he knew about Sakura's circumstances, he could have done more to get her away from the influences Shinji and Zouken, and plan against them, or done something more to stop her from feeding on people of Fuyuki. If he knew about Avalon, the holy scabbard that Kiritsugu had placed within him, he could have used it to improve her health. If he knew more about his own magecraft, he could have awakened Unlimited Blade Works much earlier. Even a small fraction of it would have been useful in the War.

Even later in life, this adage proved true. That wasn't to say that a lack of information would ever deter him, but he had learned how useful it could be, and to take whatever opportunities he could to increase or improve what he had. What brand of thaumaturgy does the target possess? What about Mystic Codes? Known allies? Frequented locations? And so on.

That was why he spent four years exploring his environment as much as he was able. Why he took online courses to learn Ancient Greek and Latin. Why he had managed to build an information network spanning the entire North American continent. Though granted, that network was far too whimsical to really be under his control.

When he was eleven, Yancy organized a weekend camping trip. He took this opportunity to slip away, fooling the household into thinking he was unreachable at the camp-grounds, and fooling Yancy into thinking he was ill, long enough to take a taxi and track down Camp Half-Blood. It honestly was not that difficult. The overpowering scent of divine blood could be smelled for miles. He wondered why the place was not constantly attacked, and upon arrival he found the answer.

He didn't dare enter the place, not because he couldn't overcome the wards, Rule Breaker or Gae Dearg would make good work of every single protection here. But not only did he not want to strip these people of their protections, but he was sure that would draw too much attention.

Instead, he contented himself with reinforcing his eyes and ears and nose at night and walking around the valley to peer inside. Curiously, it seemed that without Reinforcement, the Mist could still affect him. Perhaps since the Mist obscured the concept of sight, Reinforcing the eyes' ability to 'see' overcame that.

He could have gone in the day, but the dryads sleep at night, so no-one would be there to watch him. Even without anyone to eavesdrop on, nor anyone to observe, he learned a lot. He learned of the 12 cabins, each one coated in the smell of a different divinity. Wine, ozone, a sea breeze, forestry, he could guess that they represented the Olympians. The strange barrier centered on a stranger pine tree. The god within the large camp-house who reeked of wine and the goddess who exuded warmth.

He also knew that what Mr. Brunner said was true, the more a demigod knew, the stronger their 'scent' became. Once the demigod confirms his/her own heritage, their identity is cemented in the world. And honestly, if Percy was any younger, or if he attended a different school, he would be tempted. But he believed in protecting the youth, not coddling them. If Percy knew what was out there, he could decide for himself whether or not he wanted to learn to protect himself, and chances are he would. Demigods were a resilient breed.

With every question asked, he gave the most comprehensive answer he had available, with no omissions. He idly remembered his incessant questions to Kiritsugu about magecraft. About his past. His foster father was a man who was haunted by his past and wanted nothing more than to protect his son from the horrors he himself had faced. Shirou loved the man dearly, but he couldn't help but wonder how differently he would have seen him if he knew of his past as the Magus Killer from the beginning. Maybe it wouldn't have changed much, but he would never know.

"So, any more questions?"

The four of them were sitting at the fountain again. Shirou had bought Percy a blueberry slushie, in the hopes that it would help to calm him down and make the explanations easier. It proved to be an unwise idea, as the cup was empty, and Percy looked like he was about to throw it all up.

"Dude… so… you're _not_ a demigod?" Percy breathed out. "Just… you're like a wizard?"

And if that didn't trigger some déjà vu. "Well, yes. I call myself a magus, but it's essentially the same thing."

"Right… oh, man, what am I gonna tell Mom?"

"Your mother most likely knows." Mr. Brunner said. "If your father was a powerful god, it's likely that he told her so that she would prepared for the incoming threats."

"Threats?!" Percy said alarmed. "Is my mom in danger? I thought you said normal people were off the monster radar?!"

"They are." Shirou assured him. "The threats are against _you_. Percy, I could sense the power coming off of you from a mile away. What do you think would happen if monsters attacked you and your mother just happened to be nearby? They don't care about collateral damage. Why do you think Ms. Jackson married Ugliano? His stench of cigarettes and alcohol mask yours."

"She married that disgusting creep because of me?"

"I believe so."

"Oh, hell…"

Shirou sympathized. He had only had the displeasure of meeting the vile man once, and he truly had to admire Sally Jackson. Her strength of character was truly astounding if she was willing to put up with that beast with a smile on her face for the sake of her son. Which is why he saw this as the perfect way to get rid of the man, once and for all.

"Do… do you know who my real father is?"

"We can't know for sure until he claims you. "

"But we can make a few educated guesses." He cut in. He normally wasn't this rude, but this censorship was irritating him. Besides, Percy might not have been the brightest mind out there, but he would probably figure it out now that he was thinking about it. "Percy, you love the ocean, you always smell like saltwater and you can hold your breath underwater for ten minutes. Ms. Jackson said that your father was _lost at sea_. Not dead, _lost at sea._ Twenty minutes ago, a water fountain grabbed a bully who was angering you. So, who is your father?"

A moment of silence. Percy's eyebrows knitted together as he worked through the clues and his knowledge of the gods. Realization came across Grover and Mr. Brunner's faces as the answer came to them. "Holy shit." Percy breathed out. Normally Shirou would admonish him, but he supposed that Percy needed the catharsis. "Holy mother of- My dad… My father is…"

"Perseus, _don't!_ " Mr. Brunner nearly roared.

Percy slapped his hands over his mouth, getting a smile from Shirou. And the boy claimed he was a slow learner. "Yes. Poseidon, god of the seas." Grover bleated in alarm, he and Mr. Brunner looking up at the sky, but there was nothing. Shirou's smile only grew.

"Wait a sec, why can you say it, but I can't?"

Shirou gave a self-deprecating smile. "I'm mortal. The gods couldn't care less about me, and a few magic tricks won't change that. Until they directly point their eyes at me, I'll be off their radar. Otherwise every mortal studying Greek myths will set them off. If you want to talk about him, just call him You-Know-Who. It's worked for me this far." Not to mention the levity that came from the ridiculous pseudonym of a fictional character tended to undo some of the awe and revelry for the gods.

"So that is how you managed to get so much information without anyone learning of your existence?" The teacher mused.

"In part. I did receive some… alright a lot of help. And no. I won't say who."

"Let me just check something." Percy waved his hands. "Since I know all this stuff now, that means this 'scent' on me is stronger now? Which means more monsters?"

"More monsters." Shirou admitted bluntly. "You're still a child, and untrained, so they won't be much of a threat. But as you grow older, your godly blood will become more pronounced, even if you hadn't been told of the truth about your heritage."

"And those monsters… they think I stole this weapon? That's what Ms. Dodds said, right? _Where is it? Where is the weapon?_ "

"Yes. Zeus' master bolt went missing several weeks ago, and he has been blaming your father for the theft. I'm sure you've noticed all the bad weather recently? If your father claims you, in Zeus' eyes that would be the same as saying 'I'm guilty.'"

"But I've got nothing to do with it!"

"That won't matter to him, Perseus." Mr. Brunner said softly. "Gods cannot interfere with each other's power directly. They must use intermediates, like their children. As things stand, the only basis for Zeus' accusations is his paranoia. That will change if he learns of your existence. The instant that happens, it might as well be a declaration of war."

"…War." Shirou could hear the feeling of being lost in his friend's voice. It was understandable. To a boy who had grown in a time of peace, even in a tumultuous household, war was such a foreign concept, its true horrors was far beyond his ability to comprehend. "Is that why you two are here? You were sent to watch me, so you could arrest me or something?"

"What? Perce, no!" Grover stammered out. "We didn't even know about your father. I mean, we had suspicions, but all we know is that you were powerful for your age. We came here to protect you!"

"Protect me? Dude, no offense, but unless either of you can grow claws or bat wings like Ms. Dodds, or can shoot swords out of midair, how exactly would you have planned to protect m- "

A ring of metal stopped his words. A meter of Celestial Bronze erupted from Mr. Brunner's hand. The blade, shining like a mirror, reflected Percy's sudden awe. "Perseus, just because you cannot see something, doesn't mean it isn't there. That's a mindset you should adopt very quickly. If you want proof, look around you."

Not a single person reacted to the deadly weapon that sprang up in the middle of the park. Their eyes briefly noted the pack of children having lunch, sometimes flicking over to the man in the wheelchair, but their attention was snatched away just as quickly. Percy looked back at the sword held high, and his eyes nearly popped out when he saw it flicker from a sword to a bat to a walking stick.

"This is… a lot to take in."

"Which is why I wanted to wait until the summer when you can have time to process." The teacher glared at Shirou, which he ignored. "At the camp, you would have been near people who have had similar experiences, and you would be under heavy protections."

Shirou suppressed a snort at the so-called heavy protections. "Maybe from monsters. What about the gods?"

Grover choked on his apple. "Shirou, you can't just stay stuff like that! People have gotten blasted for far less!"

"Eh." Shirou waved him off. "Percy, under normal circumstances I would probably agree with Mr. Brunner. But the differences between you and the other demigods is that you have the power of one of the eldest gods. You will always be in the spotlight. And, from what Ms. Dodds said, someone is actively hunting you, and are determined enough to send a monster despite your protectors. What was she, by the way? She seemed different from the rank and file. More intelligent."

"… She was one of the Kindly Ones. The Angry One."

"…You should have said that from the start. Do you genuinely Percy will be safe from him if _he_ truly decided to pursue him?"

"Whoa, whoa." Percy sensed the change in tone. "Hang on, enough with the pronoun game, what's a Kindly One and why is this bad news?"

"Percy," Shirou held his attention. "Percy, the Kindly Ones are not ordinary monsters. They are old and strong and only serve one master. Hades, the god of the underworld.

"Why? If it's…the king who's missing the weapon, why is… this other guy coming after me?"

"Why else? To take possession of the master bolt. At least, that's what everybody thinks. Hades has always been an isolationist, so it is almost impossible to question his real motives." Mr. Brunner explained. "A few months from new, during the summer solstice, the king has declared that should the master bolt remain missing and the perpetrator unidentified until then, there will be war."

"…This is so above my paygrade."

"Just a bit." Shirou agreed.

"What do I do now? Is there gonna be like, a trial or something? I don't even know how this is gonna work?"

"Trial?" Shirou scoffed. "Percy, these are _gods_. As far as they're concerned, their word is law, period. If Poseidon claims you, that's it. Zeus won't hear another word of it.

"As for what you should do, step number one would be to inform your mother about recent developments. She'll understand the circumstances. She won't like it, but she'll understand."

"Okay, there is no freakin' way I'm explaining all this to her alone."

"You won't have to, right?" Shirou looked pointedly at Mr. Brunner and Grover. It wasn't meant to be threatening, but they had a responsibility to Percy.

"Don't worry." Grover assured. "I'm sure Ms. Jackson was expecting this. She'll adapt quickly enough."

"Second thing to do, well, that's your choice." Shirou said. "While you are at Yancy, I can handle any of the monsters that come after you. My dorm is quite close to yours too, so night attacks won't be a problem. The question is, what would _you_ do during that time."

One would question why Percy needed to do anything. If he was safe in school and Camp Half-Blood meant he would be safe during the summer, then he really didn't need to do anything, did he? But Shirou knew better, and he suspected that Mr. Brunner and Grover knew too, considering the knowing looks they gave him.

Percy was restless by nature. He wasn't made to sit around doing nothing. He got bored quickly and his attention span was just as abysmal. He was used to action. If there was something he could do, he would do it, if only for the reason that there was nothing else he could do.

"Could you…could you teach me some of that magic stuff?"

"I could try. Keep in mind, that I'm only a third-rate magus. It's highly probable that my brand of magecraft wouldn't suit you at all. But there are other things I can teach you if you are willing to go through with it."

"Like what?"

"Like how to use one of those." Shirou nodded towards the sword in Mr. Brunner's hand.

"Dude, are you serious? You'll teach me sword fighting?"

"As soon, as I can find a place to do it. I doubt I could rent out the gym for a few hours, but it shouldn't be too difficult to find somewhere else." Shirou mused.

"That will be awesome." Percy admitted.

"It will be tough. I've been told that I'm a very harsh teacher."

"Heh, I can take a beating."

Percy was taking this lightly. Shirou couldn't really change that with words. Once the training begins, Percy would probably want to quit, and Shirou was going to let him. He wouldn't force anything onto Percy, even if he thought he needed it. You can't educate someone who isn't receptive. But he had high hopes in that regard.

"I certainly hope that you know what you are doing." Mr. Brunner spoke in a hushed voice so as to not draw the attention of Percy who was asking Grover more questions about Camp Half-Blood. "I must warn you, I have no idea how the Olympians will react when they learn of your existence and your intervention. This is a delicate enough situation as it is without a wild card coming into play. They will want to learn your motives. Why are you doing this?"

Motives. It wasn't the first time someone had questioned his, and it certainly won't be the last. His motive was simple enough, but very few people seemed to really understand it. Of course, its meaning has changed over the years, how could it not, with what he went through, what he had to do? He had questioned it, redefined it, even abandoned it at times. And yet time and time again, he gave his answer, unwavering.

"I just want to be a hero."

* * *

Sitting on a bench in the park were three withered old ladies. They looked so fragile, it seemed the breeze would blow them into dust. All three were staring at them, though it was unclear who it was specifically that they were looking at. All of them were completely still, their faces set in confusion.

The one on the left was holding a peculiar set of items, a ball of blue twine in one hand, and on the other, a coil of barbed wire. The woman in the middle was gripping a pair of massive, tattered socks. They were in truly terrible condition, the stitching was uneven, there were holes in the product, and there were loose and frayed strings everywhere. The final woman was holding a string of barbed wire in her hand, not mindful of the sharp spikes digging into her skin.

 _Why are you here?_

* * *

 **Okay, this will be the standard chapter length from now on. Consider the first chapter a prologue if you want. Apologies if it's a little exposition heavy.**

 **Now in response to several people who asked me similar questions, let me clarify a few things that I have decided for this story;**

 **Only the characters from the Greek and Roman worlds will appear in this story. As far as I'm concerned, the Egyptians and the Norse are dead pantheons. Why? Because I haven't read the Sword of Summer and don't really plan to. Also, while I have read the Egyptian trilogy, I didn't enjoy it as much as the original PJO.**

 **Second, the history and lore used in this story will be a mix of Nasuverse lore, and what is depicted in real world legends. Which elements I'll incorporate will be up to plot convenience.**

 **Third, it is unclear whether or not other Nasuverse characters will appear in this story.**

 **If you are unhappy with any of these decisions, then feel free to walk away.**


	3. Chapter 3: Final Exam

**Chapter 3: Final Exam**

"Where did you even find this thing?!" Percy screamed.

The thing in question, was a large, shaggy black dog. It would take anyone just one look to realize the dog was abnormal. At least, anyone who could see through the Mist. The most obvious example would be its size, the dog was as large as rhinoceros, and much more intimidating. They would see fur that seemed to writhe and sway in an unseen wind, darker than shadow. They would observe eyes dyed a deep red, the color of blood, and its dark face, and the contrast made them seem like shining beacons. Its teeth reflected its monstrous appearance, long and wicked canines like butcher knives.

Hellhounds, the hunting dogs of the Underworld.

"I didn't have to find it. It was looking for you. I captured it while it was sniffing around in the tennis courts last week."

Hellhounds were some of the most common monsters that Shirou had come across, and he learned much from them. They were not to be underestimated, for one thing. Not only were they powerful, but they were much faster than their bulky stature suggested. They were stronger at night, or in areas with little light, and were highly susceptible to weapons designed against dark creatures, even more than most monsters.

Obviously, if one wanted to capture them, Black Keys would be the go-to weapon, but they had this annoying habit of melting into the shadows, before he could pin them. Shirou surmised that it was some kind of teleportation unique to them because he had never seen any other kind of monster do it.

More to the point, due to their commonality, Shirou decided that Percy would benefit from some live combat.

Thinking back on his own experiences, Shirou never really had a combat instructor. Whether it was against Saber, Rider, or a dozen other people he had fought in his previous life, he learned by experience, through pain and injury. A theoretical blade will never kill anyone, only one that has been beaten and tempered repeatedly. Of course, he wasn't planning to put a child through the same hardships, but a reasonable simulation seemed to work.

The hellhound lunged, its claws facing forward. Anticipating the threat, Percy swiveled to the side, the claws missing him by inches. He dug his heel into the ground, kicking himself forwards to thrust the consecrated blade into its side. He managed to drive the blade through its flesh, but the cut was too shallow to kill.

Shirou frowned. He was trying to find a good sword for Percy to use. The sword he was using now was a simple one-handed xiphos that he had altered to have properties strong against creatures of shadow. He wanted to see what kind of sword suited Percy's personality best, and as expected, he seemed to have an affinity for Greek blades. He had contemplated Tracing Anaklusmos, but he was a little leery giving sword with such a long history to him.

The hound landed on its front feet and raised its hind legs. Percy caught its kick to the chest, its claws tearing at the leather armor. Percy leapt back, gasping in shock, but to his credit he recovered quickly and neatly lopped off the hound's legs. From there, it was child's play to keep out of the reach of its claws and stick the sword in its throat.

Percy let out a breath, dusting off the monster dust that had gotten on his clothes. "That would have gone easier if I could just get some water." Another thing they were experimenting with were Percy's inherited abilities. It was easy enough to find out that water made him stronger, and a little experimentation told them that seawater had the most effect, and tap water had the least.

"And if you can figure out a way to souse yourself in seawater during combat, then I highly encourage you to use it." He replied dryly, tossing him a bottle of water. Honestly, Shirou wouldn't put it past Percy to find a way to do that. As diligent as he could be, he would often find the most roundabout ways to be lazy. Just the other day, he was attempting to use his water powers to summon an opened can of coke. Suffice it to say, he ended up being very sticky, with a bump on his head.

"Ahh man, can you get this stuff off of me? I'm boiling." Percy was tugging at the padding on him. Shirou acquiesced and tugged open the straps to free him. "Oh, much better." He then upended the water bottle over his head, soaking his shirt. "So how did I do?"

"Not bad." Shirou admitted. "I saw a few openings during your attacks, but monsters wouldn't be able to take advantage of them. Even so, make sure to be doubly alert when you're facing multiple enemies. A smarter monster might spot it before you can."

"Right." He settled down on the ground, catching his breath, the sword resting cross his lap. "One week, huh?"

Shirou took a second to look at Percy. Really _look_ at him. The past month has changed him only slightly, but surely. His arms had faint lines from scars that had yet to fade. Several bruises dotted his body from the most recent training session, which hadn't had time to heal. The sword he held, was another tell. At first glance, his grip may seem lax and unrefined, but Shirou could see the firmness and confidence where discomfort used to be. "Yes, only one week until summer."

"Are you coming to camp with us?"

"I'll do my best. They might try to bar me from the camp, but they won't be successful."

"You know, you're kinda scary when you just say stuff like that. You're gonna give Grover an aneurysm."

"He'll get used to it." At the least, he better. He had no ill intentions against the satyr. He was hardworking and only wished for his friend's safety. He was a far cry from what the legends depicted his kind to be. But he had a cowardly side that made Percy wary, and a blind loyalty to the gods, neither of which he could fault him for. "Speaking of summer, are you ready for the exams?" he asked, getting a groan from his friend. "Don't be like that. Grover and I have helped you a lot."

"I know, and I appreciate it, but jeez…" Percy slumped down. "Hopefully I'll pass most of them, but there are some that I'm still pretty iffy. At the very least, I'm sure I'll be in Yancy for another year. Which come to think of it is a barrel of mixed feeling right there."

Shirou smiled. Percy didn't like Yancy. He never did, and he never will. But his mother fought tooth and nail to get him here, an expensive school that showed success with the so-called 'problem children', and Percy wasn't the type to squander someone else's efforts, much less his own mother's.

"How is Ms. Jackson?"

Immediately, Percy's grimace was wiped away to be replaced by a massive grin. "Fantastic. The divorce will be finalized by next month, and the cheapskate's not wringing a single penny from her. And she's getting the apartment!"

"I'm glad to hear it." As expected, it was easy enough for Sally Jackson to accept that her son was now fully aware of his heritage, and that one of his friends was a magus, and another was a satyr. What was not expected was her reluctance to divorce Gabe Ugliano. Admittedly, Shirou _should_ have accepted that, but he didn't because of a bad habit he had developed in the past years.

He forgot that in the eyes of everyone else, he was still very much a child. Sally Jackson had absolutely no reason to entrust the safety of her only son to a twelve-year-old, no matter how competent he may be. It took a demonstration of Tracing and a few simple Bounded Fields to convince her of his ability to protect Percy on and off campus, even though Percy was rather miffed at being presented as so helpless.

Shirou deactivated the Bounded Field around the football field, removing the compulsion for incomers to avoid the field. The Field was rather shoddy, detectable by anyone with a hint of magecraft, but that didn't matter to Shirou, since those weren't the type of people who he was trying to drive away. "Let's hit the showers, class starts in 45 minutes."

* * *

"Remind me again, why should we allow you to do this?"

Shirou knew that Chiron's question was very much rhetorical, but he answered for Grover's benefit, who was chewing an aluminum can like a chipmunk. He always wondered how on earth his innards could withstand that. They were all in the Jackson's living room, watching Percy

"For one thing, _I'm_ not the one doing anything you're arguing against. Second, school is over, and neither of us have been to Camp Half-Blood yet. You have no authority over either of us. Besides, Ms. Jackson has already given Percy permission. That should be enough, don't you think."

"I did." Sally nodded, wringing her hands. "But I'd be lying if I said I didn't have second thoughts."

"Relax, Mom." Percy tried to take a reassuring tone. "I've learned a lot this past month, and Shirou will be around. I'll be fine!" With that, Percy snapped his backpack closed and hefted over his shoulder. "Besides, it's like a day's walk from here? It's not like I'm going to the West Coast."

Shirou glanced at his watch. "Alright, Percy. You go on ahead, and I'll be right behind you. Out of sight, of course. Remember what you're looking for?"

"Delphi Strawberry Service." Percy recited. "I got it. See you guys at camp." With one last cocky smirk, and a kiss on the cheek to his mother, Percy was gone.

Nobody said anything for quite a while, not that there was anything that needed to be said. All of them were watching the hands of the clock on the wall, or the watches on their wrist. Once the hands hit the noon, Shirou made his move, taking out an old, battered flip phone.

 _Ring-ring. Ring-ring! Rin-_

"Start running, Percy."

" **Hearing ya loud and clear."**

* * *

If he were to be honest, Percy was in two minds about this. Having seen Shirou pepper an ogre with arrows in a couple of seconds, he knew that he wasn't in any real danger. But the minute he hung up the phone, the anxiety kicked back in. He did his best to push that down, and continue through the city, another face in the crowd.

He fingered the bronze pen in his hand. Riptide, the current that takes one by surprise. Despite Shirou's efforts and apparently endless supply of swords (seriously, how many does the guy have?), this was the one sword that he truly felt comfortable with, the one that felt like it belonged in his hand. But both Mr. Brunn- Chiron, and Shirou had warned him about its history.

Honestly, Percy didn't really worry about it. According to them, the sword wasn't cursed, its previous wielders just had really bad luck. And once he thought about that for a few minutes, Percy concluded that he probably wouldn't even notice the difference.

Shirou told him that he could choose whatever route he chose, and take as much time as he needed, so long as he travelled completely by foot. Manhattan to Long Island Sound wasn't too far, if he walked straight there, he'd probably reach it by nightfall. But he really doubted that he'd be so lucky.

He started having troubles halfway across the Williamsburg Bridge.

He made it about, he would say a quarter of the way across when the East River started boiling. He didn't hear anything at first, the constant honking of commuters and cursing of hot-headed drivers overwhelmed the ears. It was only when the bridge started shaking that Percy realized something was wrong.

He leapt over the multitude of iron railings, ignoring the panicked shouts of other people. He barely managed to look over the edge when a geyser erupted in his face. Something in the pillar of water lunged towards him, and only the glinting, metallic light clued him in to the fact that he should not be standing so close to the edge. He leapt backwards but ended tripping over the railings behind him.

He quickly shook off the embarrassing fall and sprang back up in what he hoped was a smooth motion. Percy looked around, seeing similar geysers on all sides, creatures leaping out of the water onto the Williamsburg Bridge. Traffic on the bridge stopped almost immediately as the monsters invaded the roadways, people fleeing without hesitation. As to be expected, people were panicking. He had no clue what they were seeing through the Mist, but it must have been pretty darn terrifying.

Then again, Percy really didn't have a _great_ view either. The creatures that came were like twisted mermen. Their skin was mottled grey-green, like fish that had been left out in the sun too long and covered in barnacles and seaweed. They were bipedal, slogging along on long flippers, dragging their fat bodies across the tarmac. Their upper limbs were disproportionally short and ended in a lizard-like claw. In short, they looked like a mix of the ugliest parts of fish and lizard, two animals that weren't that good-looking in the first place.

He counted six in total, each one slowly but surely making its way towards them. It seems they only had eyes for him, mostly ignoring the screaming mortals. Percy was perfectly happy to wait until the bridge, or at least the immediate area was completely clear before making his move. But things don't often go according to plan.

It seems one silver Audi didn't quite see the monsters in time. Brakes screeched, and rubber burned, but the sealizard in its path barely flinched, extending one arm and stopping the car in its tracks detonating the airbags within. The metal crunched within its claws and continued to be deformed when the creature tore it out, along with a chunk of steaming engine. It roared at the driver, who started screaming.

The sealizard walked towards the driver, a woman who was struggling with her seatbelt. It reached out with one claw, but before it could extend its arm even more, a metal spike instantly embedded itself in its hand.

 _Crap, crap, crap!_ Percy was on the move, uncapping Riptide in one smooth motion. Before the sealizard could react, Percy had swung the Celestial Bronze blade in a deadly arc towards its neck. He struck true, but the monster's thick hide clasped the blade like armor. Thinking fast, he kicked it hard in the chest to wrench his sword free, which wasn't easy because their heavy-set bodies made it feel like kicking a fleshy dumpster. It responded with a shriek of pain and a swipe to his face, which he easily avoided. _Strong, but stupid._

A slightly higher pitched shriek drew his attention, and he dove to the side. Still on the ground, he barely managed to raise his blade to intercept another claw that was thrust to his heart. With less coordination than he would have liked, he scrambled away to get himself from breathing room. Alright, this was going to be tougher than he thought. Riptide was sharp as hell, but a month of haphazard beatdowns didn't give him the muscle needed to just cut straight through the hide and fat. And their numbers made it hard to focus on just one.

He eyed the ground, soaked from their appearance of the sealizards. _Then again, maybe not._ It wasn't a lot, but it was enough. That's one of the first things Shiro drummed into him. In battle, with everything from time to resources, that's all you ever need. Just enough.

With a simple command to _push_ , the river water rose out of the cracks in the road and shot into the monsters faces with the force of a fire hose. Too slow to dodge, most of the sealizards were knocked on their asses, the rest were pushed into the road dividers. Percy went after them first.

He managed to kill two of them while they were still dazed, shoving Riptide into their throats where their hide was thinner. It was easy enough to stay out of their reach, they were big and slow, and he could easily keep them at bay with jets of water. The problem was whenever he got close. One of the sealizards clipped him on the shoulder, and its scaly fist felt like a bowling ball.

He drew on the water, but rather than aim it at the lizards, he had it wash over his body. Instantly he felt stronger, faster and lighter. His senses sharpened, and the already-slow sealizards might as well have been moving in slow motion. He punched the nearest one in the eye causing it to rupture. With a crunch, he drove his sword into the side of its head, which would have been unwise if it had been a kind of animal because he could get himself stuck in its thick skull. But this was a monster, its entire body dissolved upon death. Once it was dead, he could move on immediately.

The final three were simple to take care of after that. He tried to keep the collateral damage to a minimum, but he couldn't help but use the cars and road dividers as cover. The monsters had absolutely zero restraint and buried their limbs in the concrete and metals. It was laughably easy to just pivot to the side as they punched and chop them up while they were trying to free themselves. He could only apologize in his head for the people who wouldn't be able to go to work for a while.

Within a minute, the rest of them were dead.

Adrenalin left his system, the water dried off. The fatigue from the burst of action quickly set in. He spent less than five minutes fighting, and his arms already started to ache, and his breathing was heavy. Shirou's ass kickings were brutal, but they were long and sustained, it was meant to sharpen his instincts and raise his experience. Short bursts of combat took more of a toll on him, especially if he used his water powers, but in a built-up area like this he wanted to finish things quickly.

 _ **BZZT**_

 _Not bad. Remember, you don't have to concern yourself with mortals, I'll take care of them. Focus on protecting yourself for now and getting to camp. Also, it seems that the monsters have noticed you're no longer protected and are coming more vigorously. This text is probably not helping. Remember, if you want to quit, just get in a taxi, or call me. I'll kill all of the monsters once you get in._

 _ **BZZT**_

 _By the way, according to Grover, those monsters were called Cetae, Cetus singular. Their kind shouldn't bother you again once you're on land._

 _ **BZZT**_

 _Police are coming. Run._

As if on cue, sirens were faintly heard in the distance. Percy huffed, looking out into the sprawling metropolis ahead, the dozens of miles he had to travel. "And yet somehow, my math exam went worse than this."

* * *

 **I looked it up, and apparently the average response time for police in NYC as of 2017 is about 9 minutes. What the hell. If I'm wrong, please correct me because that is terrifying.**

 **Also, another what the hell. This story manage to garner over 200 favorites and 300 follows. What.**

 **Exams are a bitch. That is all.**


	4. Chapter 4: The Crossing

**Chapter 4: The Crossing**

"How are the younglings doing…How are the _other_ younglings doing?... Good, good. How did Laura's math exam go? She has been struggling… That's fantastic. And the Derek is… Of course, Mrs. Strauss. I'll be back by tomorrow morning… It's just a small camp in Long Island… I understand… I'm sure they can be trusted…I will call you tonight with more contact information… Of course, of course… Goodbye."

Shirou snapped the phone closed and sighed. What he wouldn't give to be of age right now.

"Are you in trouble?" Grover asked from his seat beside him. The two of them were currently perched on top of a tree branch, observing Percy, who was quite a distance away, Grover with a set of binoculars and Shirou with reinforced eyes.

"Nothing that I can't handle. Mrs. Strauss is slightly worried about me being so far from Manhattan, but I can take care of myself and she knows it. She still worries."

"That's not a bad thing, though."

"Of course not. Speaking of which…" He flipped his phone open once again, this time using the camera, zooming in towards a figure in the distance before managing to take a steady picture. He sent the picture to Sally and received an answer in seconds. "I promised regular updates until arrival to camp."

"How are you getting bars in the middle of a forest?"

"I'm a magus, I can do stuff like that." Shirou muttered in response. That wasn't a lie. Reinforcing a phone's signal was easy enough, once you got the balance right to avoid frying the circuits, and he was sure that if he tried, he could get international coverage without paying a dime. It only took him one barbecued phone to get the hang of it. "How far are we from camp?"

"Um… about fifteen miles? Less? I'll be honest, I've never really taken this route to camp before. By the way, shouldn't we move on? We're going to lose Percy."

"Sure. He's moving very quickly. I told you that he would do well." He turned to the tree trunk and bowed low. "Thank you for letting us sit here and keeping an eye out. Please keep up the good work." There was no verbal response, but the branches shook slightly, even with the clear lack of wind.

"I still don't get how you do that. I'm a satyr, and the dryads don't talk to me like that." Grover sighed, with a note of envy in his voice.

Shirou could only shrug. "Nature spirits seem to like for some reason. Apparently, something about me sets them at ease. They were the ones who taught me a lot about this world. Well, I say 'taught', but really, they just gossiped while I was in earshot and gave me some names and clues to study. You wouldn't believe what kind of dirt they have on people." With that, Shirou leapt down, and set off.

"No, I think I would." Grover effortlessly leapt down, keeping up with Shirou's Reinforced pace through the tangled forest undergrowth with his cloven hooves. That conversation at least gave him a clue as to how Shirou was so knowledgeable despite the fact that he has never left the state.

The two of them skirted around the main path, keeping out of Percy's line of sight, but they were easily able to track his movements. They trekked on in comfortable silence, only stopping to make some observations. Shirou was right, Percy was moving quickly. There had only been one attack after the Cetae ambushed him on the Williamsburg Bridge, and Percy had handled it like a pro. Sure, it was only one giant snake, but even that could be deadly to newcomers. Even being slowed down by nightfall, he pushed on with no hesitation.

 _Maybe we should put more emphasis on monster fighting?_ Grover mused. Most of the combat training kids got were drills in the arena or at the shooting ranges, along with Capture the Flag, of course. Maybe they could make controlled monster fights a thing. Shirou's sink or swim method seemed to work for impulsive demigods. _Either way, the Ares kids are gonna have a field day with these two._

He was cut off when a familiar scent wafted through the air. "Strawberries. We're close. We should have you do collections more often if things are gonna go this smoothly… Shirou? Dude, you alright?"

Shirou wasn't looking at him. His golden eyes, normally kind and warm, were now harder than steel. He had already conjured that strange black bow and one of those even stranger metal arrows. "We have company."

That was when he smelled it.

* * *

Percy was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had gone way too long without something going wrong. It's not as if he was trying particularly hard to hide, he was walking on the side of the road for heaven's sake. But except for the freaky snake and some Good Samaritans offering a lift, he didn't come across anyone else.

Then the giants showed up.

 _You know, maybe you are cursed._ He thought as he uncapped Riptide, the Celestial Bronze giving some light in the darkness. They had come out of nowhere, looking like Gremlins that had some freakish growth spurt until they hit eight feet. Unlike other monsters they were actually wearing clothes, something he would expect the stereotypical gangbanger to wear. Tattoos, leather jackets, ripped pants, you name it. Most of them were unarmed but a few had large iron clubs taller than he was. More worryingly, the clubs looked _very_ used, littered with dents and suspicious stains that Percy really didn't want to think about.

Oh, and there were like, a dozen of them.

This was not gonna go like it was with the seali- the Cetae. Those things were just fat, thick-skinned slugs. And he was on a bridge, on top of water. These giants were just as ugly, but they were built like athletes and could probably outrun him ten times out of ten. And they were armed. Hooray.

"WE FOUND THE SEAFOOD!" One of them roared out, pounding his chest like an ape.

"SEAFOOD! SEAFOOD!" The rest of them chanted, banging their fists together, the ones that were armed slamming their clubs against the tarmac hard enough to crack it.

"Oh brilliant, you numbskulls can talk?" Percy muttered. Inwardly he was trying not to panic. Why should he panic? Shirou was probably in the tree line with an enchanted sub-machine gun or something. But _damn_ these giants were intimidating. He couldn't run, at least not for long. He'll have to play it smart. Not really his strong point.

But hey, how hard could it be?

"Look! Big, fat, demigods!"

"WHERE?! WHERE?!"

They looked away for two seconds, which gave Percy time to lop a giant's legs off and sprint into the trees. _I cannot believe that worked._ So, not only were these guys _supremely_ stupid, they were (relatively) easy to cut down. Which was great. If they had thick hide like the Cetae, he would be completely screwed, but Riptide went through them like butter.

He looked back over his shoulder and saw that the giants had just started to cop on to the fact that there were no other demigods, and their 'seafood' was currently sprinting away. They were roaring and shouting, definitely enraged. Percy figured he had about thirty seconds before they caught up to him. Maybe in daylight he could do better, but at night, in the dark and uneven forest floor, he wouldn't get far. _Thirty seconds._ he mused.

Just enough.

He dashed through the trees for a few more seconds before hiding behind a tree trunk. The howling and loud stomping from the giants made it very easy to judge their distance, even in the dark. Still making sure to keep out of their line of sight, he hopped onto one of the tree branches, hauling himself up until he was about six or seven feet off the ground.

He slowed his breathing as much as he could, listening carefully for the giants' approach. He had to time this to the split second.

The moment he saw a hint of a giant's tanned skin, he leapt off of the branch, flicking the cap off of Riptide as he did. He was going to aim straight for its neck, killing it before it even managed to look at him or register the glow of the Celestial Bronze blade.

That didn't happen.

It could have been luck, it could have been pure instinct, it could have been the metal shine in the corner of his eye, but somehow, Percy managed to raise his sword enough to block the club aimed at his face. A strike like that would have been enough to cave his skull in. As it was, having blocked it, the blow sent him flying. He flipped around in mid-air, only stopping until he collided with a tree chest first.

He barely had time to catch the breath that was knocked out of him, before having to scramble away to avoid another wild swing. _What the hell? It didn't even look at me! There's no way he saw…_

If he had the luxury, he would have facepalmed hard. _Smell. They smelled me nearby. That's how they found me in the first place! Gah!_

His internal frustrations were cut off when more giants came into view. Turns out there weren't a dozen of them, only about seven. It would have been eight, if it weren't for that one giant he dismembered. Unfortunately, the giants were a bit angrier with him since he took down their friend. _Can monsters have friends?_

Percy wheezed, but soldiered on. Shirou had punched him before, and even though he had a smaller fist, it still felt like a battering ram. Without warning, he threw himself forward, pushing as much force into his legs as he could. The sudden burst of speed caught the nearest giant by surprise. It didn't react fast enough, at least, not fast enough to matter. Riptide tore through his chest, and Percy's momentum carried him forwards even as it exploded into dust. _Six left_.

A second later, Percy rushed the giants, hoping that the cloud of monster dust would hide him. It worked, and the giants swung blindly. He barely had to move his body to dodge them and leaning back and forth had made them miss by inches. Of course, having such a huge target right next to him was far too tempting for him to pass up, and he managed to carve deep gouges in the limbs and torsos that got too close to him. Once he was out of immediate danger, Percy looked back to survey the damage. He had managed to kill one more giant and incapacitate another, and two of the giants were now sporting large injuries in their arms, rendering them completely useless, but if anything, they were more enthusiastic than ever. So enthusiastic, that they didn't bother with the threats and the four giants that could still run simply charged at him all at once from all directions, giving him no way to escape. _Oh man, what do I do, what do I do?_

He wasn't fast enough to give himself breathing room to fight for real, and he was in a clear section of the forest, where there weren't enough trees to get some cover, and even if there were, in the dark these guys had every advantage. He didn't have night vision and he might as well cover himself in bacon grease since these guys could smell him coming a mile away. There was really one way out of this.

He dropped Riptide.

* * *

Five flashes of crimson, five explosions of golden dust. In that moment, for the first time in his life, Percy understood the saying, 'if you blink, you'll miss it.' He didn't even see the arrows themselves as they flew through the air. The only sign of them were the little blue lights that came from when Shirou dissolved his arrows. In less than a second, Shirou killed, hell annihilated five monsters that nearly killed him. _Damn, that guy is freakin' terrifying._

Shirou let his bow dissipate, rotating his arms and wincing. Reinforcement and physical conditioning could only do so much when your body was that of a twelve-year-old. True, he was probably more physically fit than any other his age, or even older, but the strength required to launch swords at supersonic speeds with a bow of all things was far beyond what a human could accomplish. Even lifting the black bow without magecraft made his arms ache. He couldn't wait to grow up and begin real training.

In fact, he was rather envious of Percy. He had stepped back his training in such a way that it wouldn't impede his natural growth, but it seemed that his godly constitution prevented any ill effects from regular and rigorous exercise. Whereas he himself had to moderate himself and supplement his muscles and bones with Reinforcement every time he trained hard, otherwise his own growth would be stunted. Furthermore, Percy's growth rate was absolutely phenomenal. After barely a month of training, he was already a formidable warrior that would have given Shirou's teenage self a run for his money, and that was without water. The only thing that would give him the edge at 17 would be using Archer's arm, and that had disastrous side effects. "Are all demigods this powerful at this age?" he asked Grover, whose eyes were on the verge of popping out.

"How did you do that? I didn't even see you draw." Grover asked, slack-jawed. "Not even the Apollo kids or the Hunters could shoot that fast!"

"I've never met these kids, or whoever these Hunters are, but I'll tell them the same thing I'll tell you. Magic." Oh, Rin would have an aneurysm if she knew that he was calling this Magic. "And can you answer my question now"

Grover only shook his head and sighed. "Sooner or later, that answer isn't going to be good enough. And no, not all of them. All demigods are naturally stronger than mortals, but how much depends on their godly parent." Grover's face grew contemplative. "Percy's father is one of the Big Three, so I was expecting him to get really strong, really quickly. But I've never seen a demigod do anything like that at age twelve. I know he didn't win, but still. Even Tha-, I mean, even other Big Three children wouldn't be so good."

Grover was a very bad liar, so bad he wasn't even good at lying by omission. Still, he decided to leave it alone. But more importantly, the strength of demigods as a whole was rather sobering. He was still raw, but if Percy continued on this path, he could very well reach the level of a Servant by the time he reached his twenties, and a high ranking one before his death. For someone who lived in a world where a modern-era Servant was almost unthinkable, that was… terrifying.

He shook those thoughts away, leaving them for another time. "Come on, let's go fetch Percy. He's not in the best shape right now. You have those healing foods."

"I made sure to stock up as soon as I heard this stupid plan."

It only took them a minute to reach Percy's position, and what greeted then was a twelve-year-old nearly passed out, panting heavily on the forest floor. "Hey guys. Did you see what I did?"

"I saw what you almost did. You almost got yourself killed."

"But I didn't!" Percy insisted, as if that was the clincher for the argument. For him, it probably was. "And secondly, _you_ nearly got me killed. You are not telling anyone that this was my stupid idea. I get enough of that myself without you adding to it. Still though, once you get past the whole 'terrifying near-death experience' thing, that was pretty damn kickass! That deserves something, huh?" He held up his fists, still laid out flat on the forest floor.

Grover couldn't help but laugh and returned the fist-bump, as did Shirou. "Alright man, alright. It was kickass. Can we get into camp now? Please? My heart's been jackhammering for the past hour and now I think it's going into cardiac arrest."

"You guys are gonna have to pick me up 'cause my body isn't doing what I tell it to."

In response, Grover opened up his rucksack, retrieving a bottle of water and a square of ambrosia. He stuffed the square into Percy's mouth and splashed half the bottle all over him. Just like that, Percy sat bolt upright, chewing on the ambrosia. Yet another thing for Shirou to be in awe of. Grover had explained to him that even the slightest bit of ambrosia or nectar would kill him, and he didn't want to risk it. Ah, well. He had other ways to heal himself. "Popcorn… How many flavors does this stuff come in?"

"How many flavors are there?" Grover replied. "Come on. I want to get to the House before the cleaning harpies get to us."

The three of them started walking, climbing the hill with the strange pine tree on top. A wave of scents assaulted his nose, and not just the strawberries. The most prominent scents of smoke and wine and the other weaker well mingled together, almost oppressively. He might have only ever been third-rate, but he was still a Magus, and a Magus knew when he was on dangerous land. He barely heard Grover's nervous gulp as he crossed the threshold and the scents only became more intense.

The entire place was as quiet as a ghost town, which was to be expected as it was in the middle of the night. Yet Shirou couldn't help the shiver that persisted in his spine. A Magus was naturally attuned to the unnatural, or rather the supernatural, and this place was sending his senses into overdrive. The air was saturated with energy, to the point where the mere act of breathing felt like a direct injection of caffeine.

The satyr led them to the appropriately named Big House, explaining the workings of the camp. As they approached, the scent of wine became cloying and invasive, and his instincts were becoming more and more disturbed. Which meant that the source was in that House. He was going to meet a god. A Divine Being. One of the few things in this world that he would never fully comprehend.

"Chiron and Mr. D usually meet up with the new guys.

"Grover," his voice was small and cautious, as if he was hiding his position. "The god in that house…Who is it?"

Grover looked uncomfortable. "Shirou… you know I can't give you a name. Names have power and you… well, I can't just bat them around like that. But…everyone calls him Mr. D. And he has a bit of a drinking problem?"

That all but confirmed his suspicions. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit scared. He had never faced real divinity, though a few enemies had come close. And this particular god had a bit of history for being… volatile to say the least. Then again, out of possibly dozens of entities, for some reason this god was chosen to be the caretaker of a demigod safe haven. Surely, he couldn't be that bad?

Grover must have seen his worry. "Hey, Shirou… For what it's worth, you won't meet him today. Mr. D is usually resting by now. He's almost never up this late and I doubt he would wake up just to meet us…"

They entered the House, to be greeted with Chiron, back in his wheelchair, playing a card game with a grizzled, slightly chubby middle-aged man wearing gaudy purple running shoes and an even gaudier leopard print Hawaiian shirt. The man's face was red, his eyes bloodshot and his nose red. "You're late, Underwood!" the man growled, not even looking up from his hand. "We've been here so long that I was starting to get sick of pinochle! Or at the very least get sick of playing it with Chiron!"

A small strangled noise wormed its way out of Grover's throat. He had completely frozen in place, the shock evident on his features. "M-Mr. D? Why are you here? I mean- I mean, of course you have every right to be here, but you're usually resting at this time."

"Normally, I would be. But Chiron here convinced me that it was worth staying to meet your latest miracle. Frankly, when I heard what you were up to, I didn't expect you to last an hour and the next time I see you would be as a daffodil. But no! You have arrived and by the sounds of it, your charge still has all his limbs. I would applaud, if it was earlier in the day. And if I actually gave a damn." The man now confirmed to be Mr. D clucked his tongue and threw down his cards in disgust. He waved his hand, a can of Diet Coke appearing within it. "So, what in is so bloody important about the latest brat that I had to stay up this la- Hrrph!"

Diet Coke sprayed across the cards, immediately after Mr. D. finally deemed to raise their eyes and look at the three children. His eyes briefly glared at Grover, examined Percy and dismissing him immediately, before finally resting on Shirou himself. Which was what seemingly triggered the waste of perfectly good cola.

"What in Hades are you supposed to be?"

To be fair, as first impressions go, he's had worse.

* * *

 **I feel that I should make something very clear, while this story is still in its early stages. Percy is going to be very much a main character in this story, just as much, if not more than Shirou. I've read a lot of stories from the perspective of an older and/or more experienced Shirou, and while they're awesome, I've noticed that they don't lend themselves to character development. Old men are often set in their ways. Percy in the original works is a great protagonist in my opinion, strong, loyal, brave, but still sassy and very much a teenager, and I think it would be interesting to see how he would grow with a guiding hand like Shirou.**

 **Now for the elephant in the room. I know, I'm sorry. It's been a while. College is a bitch okay? I may have slightly underestimated the difficulties associated with an engineering course. I wrote this chapter over the course of three months. For those of you who follow my other main story, the chapter is almost finished.**

 **Later bitches!**


	5. Chapter 5: Making New Friends

**Chapter 5: Making New Friends**

Shirou had gotten his fair share of weird looks before. Some of them curious, most of them hostile, very few of them in any way appreciative. One of the most unnerving gazes he had ever experienced was that of Rider. Even after many years together, he still had much trouble deciphering her face when she chose to keep her expressions hidden. He may be in the minority, but he would much rather know what his observer thought of him, no matter how negative. The effect was magnified when she had her blindfold on. What was she thinking? Was there something wrong? Was she offended somehow?

There was no greater interrogator than one's own imagination.

Mr. D, though, could give her a run for her money.

There was something… clinical about that gaze. It reminded of him of the Magi from the Clocktower. Cold and dispassionate. Not like a doctor diagnosing a patient, more of a scientist observing a specimen.

Shirou knew that he wasn't insane. Not in the way conventional psychiatry defined it and tested for it. He could walk into the office of any reputable professional and come out with a clean bill of health. His mind was traumatized, but intact. But he was different. There can be no denying that. Normal magi couldn't possess Reality Marbles. The mentality required to alter the word, no, to _supplant_ the world to such a degree was literally unthinkable. But if one wished to be pedantic about it, then that was one definition of what madness was. A mentality that was different from normal human thought.

So, what did the God of Madness see when he peered into him? What _could_ he see? In the first thirty seconds that he saw him, Mr. D. demonstrated abilities that would have been classified as True Magic in his home world with a casual hand gesture. Shirou clearly couldn't judge him using the metric of his previous world. Thinking about it just gave Shirou a headache.

"Now, we officially don't know who your godly parent is- "

"Uhh…"

"It is not considered official until the parent is the one who pronounces it. Elsewise, anyone could claim whichever god they wanted as a parent and reap the benefits associated with them."

"Gotcha."

"As I was saying, there is a precedent for when the child knows, but the parent has yet to acknowledge it. We don't believe it fair to force someone to stay in a cabin they don't want to, so we offer them a choice. You may stay in Cabin Eleven as an unclaimed, or you can stay in your father's cabin, under the condition that you hold no authority as cabin leader. Instead, I will be in charge of your activities and have authority _in loco parentis_."

"Umm…" Percy scratched his head. "So, what? I get my own room, but you're the boss? Doesn't sound any different from the dorm life I know."

"Exactly. Cabin leaders choose things like wake-up calls, curfews, activity schedules and so on. This rule was put in place so that people couldn't boss around younger siblings without their parents' approval. However, in your case…"

"No siblings, so no-one for me to boss around anyway, huh?" Percy mused. "Where does Grover sleep?"

"The satyrs have their own homes in the forests. They prefer to be closer to nature."

"Hippies." Percy nodded sagely. "Can't say I want to bunk with them."

"Hey!" Grover looked hurt.

"Dude, you eat tin cans and smell like goat hair. You're my friend, but a whole forest of you guys is a bit much."

Grover sighed. "Fair enough. To be honest, I don't like a lot of them, either."

"Where does Shirou stay?"

That brought up a pause and drew both Shirou's and Mr. D's attention away from their silent staring contest. Chiron locked eyes with the camp's patron god for a brief moment, a voiceless agreement being formed between them. Mr. D broke the silence. "For tonight, Shirley can stay in one of the guest rooms in the Big House. Since he's mortal, Pedro, if he's going to be staying here long enough to start annoying me," he stopped and furrowed his brows. "annoying me even _more_ , then he bunks with you. He causes any trouble, you clean it up."

"Sounds fair." Percy muttered. "But Shirou, you're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"

"At first light. Mrs. Strauss is expecting me by breakfast. Sorry, I can't stay longer, but you can take care of yourself here. I'll be back after a few days. And you can always call when you get in trouble."

"Don't you mean _if_ I get in… You know what, never mind." Percy sighed. "Well, I'm not too keen on having any of my stuff stolen, so… Cabin Three, I guess?"

"Very good. Now it is well past bedtime, but considering the circumstances, I will arrange a late breakfast for you and Grover. Grover, lead him to Cabin Three, and then you may retire for the night. Run along, you two. Shirou, you best be off to bed as well if you wish to leave early tomorrow. Take any of the rooms upstairs."

"Thank you, Chiron." Shirou stood and turned to Percy, noting his eyes flickering from him to Mr. D. For a second, Shirou thought that he would ask the question that was obviously on the tip of his tongue, but thankfully he decided to leave it alone. "Take care of yourself."

"I will. Night, Shirou."

"See you, Shirou."

With that, Shirou was left with the two age-old camp directors.

"You didn't answer my question." Mr. D growled, taking a chug of his Diet Coke, and looking like he wished it was stronger.

"I am a magus, Mr. D." Shirou answered frankly, deciding not to to delay this inquisition anymore.

"Not a magician or a sorcerer, but a magus. An old word that traces back to the Zoroastrian priests of Persia. A word that, I confess, I have not heard anyone use to describe themselves in a long time, most magic users often adopting more modern titles. Magician, witch, and so on."

"I remember those people. Beggars and charlatans, the lot of them." Dionysus grumbled. "Why anyone would take the name of that bunch of misfits will forever be beyond me." The god eyed him again.

"How old are you?" "12 years old."

"Where do you live?" "New York. For all my life, sir."

"Ever been abused?" "Never."

"You in a gang?" "No, sir."

"Ever killed anyone?" "Yes, sir."

"Liked it?" "No, sir."

"You're mortal?" "Yes, sir."

"Who are your parents?"

"I don't know. I've lived in foster care for as long as I remember."

"Then how do you know you're 100% mortal?" He snapped.

"Some self-examination. I can't detect any godly blood in me. The Mist still affects me unless I don't let it."

"Demigods can be still be affected by the Mist if it's strong enough, Shirou." Chiron interjected the rapid fire interview.

"Irrelevant, I was just grasping at straws." The god of wine drained the last of his drink and crushed the can before dismissing it to nothing. "Forget it. Screw this. It's too late for a migraine, and you'll be gone by morning. Take a room and stay there until I'm unconscious. Go."

Chiron gave Shirou a slightly pleading look, and Shirou didn't really have a reason to stay here. Rather the opposite, actually.

He gave the two one last bow, before retreating up the stairs.

* * *

The two immortals watched the strange boy as he walked to his room. They waited until the footsteps faded, and then waited another minute after that, before Mr. D spoke again. "What a creep."

"Mr. D, please."

"Don't ' _oh, please'_ me, like you don't agree. Or did you not see him? Uncle's balls, Chiron, what did you bring into my camp?"

"Yes, his magecraft, as he calls it is… unsettling."

The god of wine paused and studied the old centaur. "Alright, I think that we're talking about two different things here. I think he's an inhuman facsimile that should not exist in nature. Why do _you_ find him creepy?"

"I'm sorry, did I miss something?"

"You didn't see it? At all? Good grief, Chiron, considering how many boneheaded heroes you've sent off to die, I'm surprised you didn't catch on the moment you met him."

"Mr. D.?"

"Ahh, forget it. I'll explain it later when I get a better look at him."

"You two were staring at each other for close to half an hour."

"Not enough. It was like staring into a glass maze. Theoretically, you can see right through it, but if it's all transparent you end up questioning whether or not you're seeing anything important. Whatever the case, I'll figure him out. Now, Chiron, what has you so unsettled?"

Chiron considered his answer for a few seconds, taking a long draught of his coffee. "It's his magic. It is unlike anything I have ever felt. You are familiar with the process that all magic follows, yes? Weaving and shaping magical energy within oneself and in the atmosphere into a spell that will enact the caster's will. Unless done by a skilled practitioner, with high levels control, it is easy to sense when magic is being used to affect anything in the vicinity. But Shirou's spells are different. He claims to be able to create weapons from memory out of his magic. That is, all of his weapons are pure magical constructs. However, … No matter how hard I try, I can't perceive them as magical."

"So what? Then he's a conjurer, creating real, solid objects. Rare, and powerful, but not unheard of. Are you creeped out because he lied about his magic? All magicians do that to some extent."

"Perhaps I worded that badly. It wasn't just that I couldn't perceive the magic of his weapons. I couldn't perceive the magic _at all_. Not when he initially created them, and not when he dismissed them into particles of light. It was as if they were just there one second and then… gone the next."

The ramifications of what Chiron said didn't hit Mr. D for a few seconds. When it did, he put down his Diet Coke and knitted his fingers together. "Rewriting nature."

"I believe so."

The two stayed quiet for another minute. Dionysus looked across the table, his purple eyes no longer bloodshot and sleepy, but brimming with power and authority. "Keep an eye on that boy, Chiron. And keep this quiet."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

From his position sitting against the bedroom door, Shirou let the Reinforcement over his ears dissipate. He held back a groan. Things would be so much simpler if his magecraft worked like the magic of this world. Which apparently it did not.

Magecraft, at its core, is converting a magus' internal energy to transform the world. It was essentially imposing an unnatural phenomenon onto the natural world. That's why, in his original world, there was no Magecraft that could last forever, especially if they were powerful. The World recognized the anomaly that was their existence and actively attempted to destroy them. His Traced weapons, which were pulled out of the separate internal world of his Reality Marble, could bypass this to a certain extent, but they were still degraded and eventually erased.

This new world was very different. And he had a theory why.

Magecraft as he knew it, simply didn't exist in this world. And that was because it never needed to. Everything here used what he would call The World. The conversation he overheard simply confirmed it.

Mr. D had said 'rewriting nature' as if it was something he had rarely observed. That implies that whatever magic they employed, was recognized by the world as 'natural'. Nobody here had to worry about doing anything to contradict the rules of the World, because they were part of those rules. It was natural for a son of Poseidon to have control over water, for Grover to be able to enchant acorns using pan-pipes, for Chiron to be able to fit his centaur body into a wheelchair, and it was completely natural for Mr. D to be able to conjure something out of nothing.

Shirou's magecraft was a little different. When he Traced a weapon, he pulled out an object that didn't exist in this World. Black Keys, his bow, even his Noble Phantasms were no exception. But rather than attacking them like an immune system disposing of an invader, the World merely adapts in order to accept them and registers them as if they had always been there, and then it simply erases them from memory when they are dismissed. It meant that the world was extremely flexible for change.

That's why Chiron couldn't sense anything during and after Tracing. According to his description of magic, Shirou didn't do anything. In the eyes of the World, nothing happened. In the eyes of the World, there was no godly influence that demanded a change, no magic to facilitate someone's will. Something was there, and then that something became stronger, or was fortified, or moved or exploded and then it wasn't there anymore. That's it. A totally spontaneous event with no reactant and no product.

 _If that's the case…_ Shirou looked down at his body, feeling the twenty-seven Magic Circuits ready to be activated. A foreign body unique in this World. _What does that make me?_

And that's not even considering Mr. D.'s eerie evaluation. There was a ruler behind that drunken façade, an intelligence which has seen millennia. _A glass maze, huh?_ Was that an evaluation of his mind? Or was it a broader commentary about his whole being?

 _ **Glass is my heart.**_

A small flash of blue light in his hands gave birth to his familiar black and white Chinese falchions. His eyes glowed as he performed Structural Analysis. He scrutinized every last millimeter of the pair of blades. There was no degradation or erosion. No weakening in strength or quality. Their innate properties were just as potent.

 _Fake or real?_

Perhaps here… it didn't have to matter.

* * *

Contrary to Chiron's expectations, Shirou woke up at six a.m. just like he always did. He only needed a few hours of sleep each night, anyway. The sun had just begun to rise when he left the Big House, intent on exploring Camp Half-Blood on his own without anyone looking over his shoulder. The obvious place to start would be the cabins. He had just reached the area where the twelve cabins were arranged, when he spotted an anomaly.

"Good morning." He greeted the figure with a bow.

The figure took the form a nine-year-old girl in a hooded brown dress, her eyes a warm orange. She was tenderly poking at the fire positioned in the center of the formation of cabins, but she seemed quite surprised at his greeting. "Oh! You're up rather early, aren't you…?" She tilted her head slightly, before understanding came across her face. "Ahh… you must be that interesting addition that Chiron was anticipating."

"I suppose I must be." Shirou nodded. "May I join you… Lady Hestia?"

She smiled. With a wave of her hand, a chair like hers was summoned to her side, a small table with a tea set in between them. "Please, sit. It has been a while since I have prepared Japanese tea, I hope it is to your liking." With exceptional poise and grace, she poured a cup for him, and then herself.

For a few minutes, the two of them sat there in comfortable silence, enjoying the tea as the sun crept higher.

Finally, Hestia broke the silence. "While I always enjoy company, I must ask why you have come to me."

"I… wanted to get a measure of this camp. And I thought that to do that, I should meet its guardians."

"Guardian, am I? I'm afraid that's a rather lofty title for someone like me. I am not one for fighting. I simply do what I can to provide what so many of the children here lack. A home." She looked him in the eye. "But you… a home is not what you need, and shelter and refuge is not what you seek. So why?"

Shirou didn't try to deny it. "I want to protect my friends, but Percy can take care of himself for now. There's really nothing I can do for him here." He would be far more in New York, close to Sally Jackson. Close to Olympus. Close to home. He has given Percy enough preparation. Enough safeguards. Now it was time to prepare himself.

"Yes. Loyalty seems to be one of your strengths. But I can't help but wonder… ", she tilted her head as she peered at him. "Is that your choice, or your nature?"

Shirou didn't answer.

"It saddens me to say this, but when children arrive here, it is all too clear that many of them have been deprived of childhood. A child is a blank slate, a malleable mind and soul. A child is a person who has yet to know what kind of person they are. But those who make it here have all chosen their roles because they had to. They chose to be strong, charismatic leaders to guide the way for their juniors. They chose to close off their hearts to protect themselves from harm. They chose to be exuberant, light-hearted jokers to hide their own tragedies.

"But when was the last time you _chose_ to do something?"

These gods were beginning to frighten him.

"This is who I am, Lady Hestia. This is the only path for me."

"I am the goddess of Hope." She spoke quietly, taking up a poker to tend to the dancing flames. "I know what people live for. I know what keeps them fighting, what gives them the extra push forward. But I can also see when they are devoid of it. When they are lacking a home to return to."

"I found a home. And a new family."

"But your heart doesn't belong to them." She argued. "You are forever guarded. You have secrets you will never tell them. Like a soldier who will never tell his children of what he's seen."

"My heart has known peace, if that's what worries you. I have felt love and happiness."

"That doesn't mean you have to give up on finding it again." She sighed again. "Our conversation has deviated from my expectations. But that is to be expected of someone that even Dionysus couldn't get a read of at first glance. What were we discussing?"

"My plans to leave for the city."

"Yes, and how Percy can take care of himself." she agreed. "Insight and pragmatism beyond your years as well. Couple that with the instinct of a trained killer honed and tempered by decades of real combat experience. It is not something that belongs on an eleven-year-old boy." Hestia sighed, with an air belonging to an exasperated elder, rather than a young girl.

She locked eyes with him. "Perhaps my analogy of a soldier was more accurate than I first thought, except you act as if you have come to terms with your traumatic experiences, a process that could take years if not decades. Which is obviously impossible. That seems to be a theme with you. Something that infuriates my nephew."

"I'm sure there are plenty of things about me that infuriate Mr. D." Shirou smiled. "But my insight is nothing compared to yours Lady Hestia." He doubted he would be able to read so much of someone within minutes of a first meeting.

"I've been doing this for too long, and it's not as if gods ever really retire." She muttered, picking up a long stick and stoking the flames. "Though we are subject to change, just as much, if not more, than humanity."

"I would say that works in your favor. In my opinion, it's a generally a good thing when the powerful adapt to changing times rather than abusing their power in a futile effort to preserve the status quo."

Hestia smiled and nodded. "It is how we have survived for so long where other pantheons haven't. I don't know whose idea was it to move to America, to New York. Certainly not mine. The entire country was far too… _much_ for my liking. But we have made it our home, and I like to think my family has become better for it."

"…Your brothers are about to ignite a war that could wipe out human existence as we know it."

Shirou thought she might be offended, but instead, the small girl laughs heartily. "My brothers have started wars, obliterated cities, murdered thousands over _perceived_ insults. I'm sure you know the stories. Those were written from a mere mortal's perspective. Trust me, young man, they were much, _much_ worse. Now, one of the most powerful weapons in the universe has been stolen, and 21st century civilization has not regressed to the Bronze Age yet."

"if you're trying to reassure a 'mere mortal' of the gods' increased mercy, you're not doing it very well."

"I didn't mean to condescend to you." She said, slightly contrite. "nor was I demanding gratitude for their… benevolence. In the old days, the gods would do what they wish, using whatever they had at their disposal to settle the pettiest disputes, and those below would simply be dragged along, forced to weather the storm. Now, we cannot afford to be so frivolous. Do you know why?"

"Because the world has turned you into fairy tales, and those who haven't would have no trouble going against you if they felt that they, or innocent people, were being used and abused like pawns. Gods cannot die- "

"But they can fade." Hestia finished gravely. "Blunt and ruthless. But correct. We need our heroes. Now more than ever. The likes of Ares and Dionysus would never admit it, and those like Apollo are too carefree and dismissive to even acknowledge it. But the more pragmatic ones… Hephaestus, Athena, perhaps even Artemis and Demeter… They know we are not infallible. We cannot direct the world as we once had. Humanity has outgrown us. It is only due to my family… _inserting_ themselves into the world that _anyone_ knows of their existence at all."

Shirou felt that there was a euphemism in there somewhere but didn't see a need to point it out. "Lady Hestia, in the past five minutes you have told me more information about the gods than I have collected in years chasing every rumor I could get my hands on. Why are you trying so hard to make me think favorably of you?

"Have I made a convincing case?"

"For you? Maybe. But forgive my rudeness, you don't represent the Olympian Council. You are not even a member of the Olympians. My opinion of you and my opinion of them are mutually exclusive."

"I suppose that's a fair viewpoint to hold. It would be a mistake to paint us all with the same brush. However, I do hope that when you finalize your judgement of us, and I know you will judge us, I have convinced you to examine us more leniently."

"Why do you care what one mortal thinks of you?" Shirou couldn't help but ask. "Why bother appealing to me?"

Hestia didn't answer for a minute, and Shirou wondered whether she didn't want to answer, or she didn't have one. Finally, she spoke. "Shirou Emiya, do you believe in Fate?"

"...I do. But I also believe that we are capable of changing it."

Hestia nodded, having expected the answer. "You see, for us gods, Fate is an absolute. It may be clouded or hidden, but it is always present. The Fates dictate everything about our existence, from our birth to death and everything in between. Everything is bound to their cruel whims. Defying them is an impossibility, always and forever.

"The Three Fates… do they really hold that much power?"

"They do. Everything that has happened, is happening and will happen is woven by them. Except... Fate is being disturbed." She met his eyes once again, her warm orange eyes now alight with an uncomfortable intensity. "I can feel it in my very bones. Fate is being distorted by the second. And in the center of that distortion... is you."

Shirou's mind froze, before it quickly reasserted itself. "I don't know anything about that."

"I believe you. Because nobody knows much about it either. Very few have even noticed, partly because they are not paying attention. My nephew is suspicious, but it is unlikely that he will find the cause unless you meet with him directly."

"Is this what you're scared of? Is there some grand plan in motion that I'm endangering simply by existing?"

"Not you. To answer both of your questions, why I am appealing to you. It is because for the first time for eons, I am unsure of what to do. I don't know whether or not your impact to the future is positive or negative, but I would like to believe that it is the former. You clearly have compassion, and you are not the type to seek violence and destruction. You seem to be a boy who just wants to do good.

"You may have an unfavorable opinion of our rule, or the absoluteness of fate. But they have maintained the stability of our world for literal millennia. Tread carefully Shirou Emiya, for not even we know what lies ahead.

"And that _is_ something I am scared of."

* * *

It was past noon when Percy and Grover woke up and joined the rest of the camp population for lunch. As is the case for all new kids, Percy received a lot of curious stares at his place at the head table beside Chiron. He received even more stares when he failed to follow them to the braziers. He ignored them, proceeding to tuck into his breakfast-turned-lunch. "So, what's the plan, Chiron?"

"Well, ordinarily I would prescribe some of our more academic activities, but unfortunately," he continued, ignoring Percy's snort. "those are all held in the morning. So, instead I have given you some leeway for your first day. I thought you would enjoy a session in our sword-fighting arena, and from there you could join in on our equestrian activities."

"Eque- That's horse-riding, right? Could be fun. When did Shirou leave?"

"A few hours ago, though I admit, I didn't see him off. I offered to have Argus give him a ride, but…"

Percy chuckled. "Yeah… he pulls that Batman crap all the time. Don't think he knows he's doing it. I don't think you'll have to worry about him. I've seen him run faster than a car anyway."

Chiron raised an eyebrow but said nothing else. "Very well. One more thing. It may slide today, but you are expected to give an offering at mealtimes."

Now Percy was genuinely confused. "Why? My dad hasn't claimed me, and it's not as if I have to give thanks for anything. Oh, wait. Is this something everyone does, even if they don't like their parents?"

"Even if they don't like them." Chiron confirmed. "I realize your image of the gods is somewhat skewed, and being impertinent is second nature to you, but I implore you to just take the easy path for now. Make both of our lives easier. Keep in mind that one of those gods _is_ the camp supervisor, and they can be… unpredictable, to say the least."

"Alright, I'll play along." Percy grumbled. "Though I'm pretty sure that if you make Shirou throw perfectly good food into a fire, he would lose all respect for you."

"Noted."

After that, lunch passed by without incident. Which is to be expected. No one was going to bother the new kid when he was sitting right next to the man (horse?) in charge. And unsurprisingly, that peace only lasted until Percy took a step into the sword fighting arena.

Before he could even take a look around, a flash of movement caught his eye, and a practiced hand snapped up to catch the object thrown at him. It was a wooden practice sword, chipped and worn from frequent use.

"Hey, loser!"

 _Just keep walking, Percy._ He expected the hazing, and he _did_ promise Shirou that he would try not to make enemies. These people couldn't possibly be worse than Nancy Bobofit, right? He'd like to think he had more self-control than that. Nothing like Zen master Shirou, but enough to ignore some stupid name-calling.

"Hey, bonehead, are you deaf? I'm talking to you!" A large hand clapped onto his shoulder and forcibly brought him face to face with a tall, broad-shouldered girl armed with a wooden spear and a scowling face.

 _Well, I tried._

"Sorry, I thought you were just talking to yourself." Percy said, doing his best to adopt a hapless, apologetic expression. He did not succeed.

Eye twitch. "Ever use one of those, newbie?"

"Nope." Technically true, since Shirou had a preference for Japanese bokken and live steel. He wouldn't know training wheels if the came and ran him over.

The scowl transformed into a menacing grin. "Well then, I suppose it's my responsibility to show you the ropes!"

"Clarisse, quit it." A blond girl about his age came up and grabbed the big girl- Clarisse's arm. "You can't expect him to-"

"No, it's fine." Percy waved his hands to placate the newcomer, giving her an easy smile. "Really, I'm going to have to learn eventually right? Why not get started?"

"See? I'm being a good teacher. Now, hands off." She had a short glaring contest with the smaller girl, after which the blond reluctantly released her. She walked off to the side, joining the throng of spectators that looked like they were enjoying the unfolding spectacle far too much. Percy knew what they wanted to see. They wanted to get a measure of the new kid. They didn't really care whether he won or lost.

Well, half of them didn't. One half was looking between him and Clarisse, with analytical gazes making him feel like a frog about to be dissected, which were eerily similar to the blond girl's eyes. The others were practically drooling at seeing a fight. Or seeing the new guy get pounded.

"Think fast, newbie!" That was all the warning Percy got before Clarisse lunged.

Maybe he should have been more anxious. Just by looking at her, it was clear that Clarisse was bigger, stronger, faster and had more experience. He would be worried, except... _She's_ _not taking me seriously._ Her expression was vicious, but her movements were slow, slower than he was. He knew what someone fighting with a spear looked like. Shirou had thrown weapons at him he didn't even know existed. She wasn't holding her wooden spear in a ready position, her grip was slack, and it didn't look like she was even aiming for any particular spot. She thrust straight towards his chest, almost lazily, expecting no resistance.

He didn't bother using the sword. He neatly sidestepped the thrust, and before Clarisse could even recognize the hit hadn't landed, he stomped down on her foot and punched her square in the chest. Neither strike was particularly painful, but put together in quick succession, it was enough to make Clarisse stumble. She was far too experienced and well built to fall down from just that, but it did push her back a few feet.

The shock on her face was fantastic.

Percy could only offer a sheepish smile that probably looked more like a vindictive smirk. "Beginner's luck?"

The shock gave way to outrage. Clarisse sprang up, her spear in a proper hold this time, set to try and disembowel him even with the blunted end. "You're dead, a-"

"Clarisse." Chiron's deep voice cut through her rage. The girl turned away, visibly shaking in rage. She stormed off, screaming at a few younger kids and beginning to hack at a training dummy like a demented lumberjack.

Chiron nodded. "All of you, carry on." With a slight nod towards Percy, he trotted off.

"It's a bad idea," a voice knocked him out of his musings, and he turned to see the girl that tried to defuse the tensions earlier. "to get on Clarisse's bad side. Or her siblings for that matter. No one can hold a grudge like they can."

"A little late for that, don't you think?" He cocked his head to the side, where those who he assumed were Clarisse's siblings were looking like they were plotting his murder. "Besides, I don't think I would have gotten along with her no matter what I did."

She snorted. "You're right about that, at least. Annabeth Chase. Cabin Six." She held out her hand as if she expected that to mean something to him.

"Percy Jackson. Unclaimed." _Sorta._ "Are you showing me the ropes now?"

"Seems like you can handle yourself. Who taught you to fight? And don't say you're self-taught."

"A friend of mine is a beast when it comes to sword fighting. He's mortal, but he knows about… well, you know." He waved his hand in a vague motion. "He taught me how to use a sword."

"Your friend is a clear-sighted mortal?" Annabeth looked quite shocked at that, before looking contemplative. "Well, that doesn't matter. He must be very talented, but he's just a mortal in the end."

Percy took a moment to imagine Annabeth's face should she meet Shirou. He imagined it would be something to look forward to.

"Either way, you seem to have a knack for fighting, and you've got a good head on your shoulders. You'll do fine here." Annabeth went back to examining him, seeming to consider something carefully before speaking. "Have you ever played Capture the Flag?"

Percy smiled. _Yeah, I think I'll like it here._

* * *

 **I heard somewhere that one of the hardest things in writing is writing a character that is smarter than you. And holy shit was this a challenge. Almost every character that had major time in this chapter is literally millennia old and trying to figure out their thoughts and actions gave me a migraine. I hope it turned out okay, but some tips would be appreciated.**

 **Also, I'm trying to make the gods a little more, well** _ **godly**_ **than they're usually portrayed. Most of the time they're shown to be rather laid back and whimsical, and I want to keep that, but I like to think there are sides of them that a child like Percy wouldn't see. The books are from his point of view after all.**

 **Also, if anyone was wondering why this took a while, i** **n addition to Fate Grand Order, I am now addicted to Magia Record and Bang Dream. I have irresponsible friends.**


End file.
